There's A Time And A Place For Everything
by Moonshoes Colfer
Summary: ... and it's called COLLEGE. Let's see how our boys are doing in the wild world of the almighty University. Style, Keneric, and a few other fun slashy times along the way! Rated for language, drug and alcohol use, come on guys, it's college, and SMEX!
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **This is a little idea that's been wandering around in my head for ages. However, when I finally decided to type it out, it wasn't so much of a little idea as a novel-like fic of elephantine proportions. So I'll try my best to keep it going!

**Disclaimer: **Blahdy blahdy blah I own nothing and no one in this story, except the secretary, who was modeled after my 6th grade English teacher. SO ANYWAY! Let's get on with the show!

**There's A Time and Place for Everything…**

A beat-up Chrysler pick-up pulled into the parking lot of Colorado University, and its engine slowly chugged to a halt. Inside the cab, two young men sat, staring up at the looming building ahead of them.

"You nervous, Ky?" the driver, a dark-haired boy, asked his passenger.

The other boy ran his hand through his frizzy red hair. "Yeah. I'm nervous, Stan. I'm really fucking nervous."

Stan smiled at him. Kyle always worried about everything, but for once, Stan was with him on this.

"Don't worry, it'll be fine!" Stan put his hand on Kyle's shoulder comfortingly. "We're going to know lots of people here, and we get our own dorm and everything, okay?"

Kyle smiled at him. "Alright. But if end up hanging by my underwear from the flagpole, I'll know who to blame."

Stan rolled his eyes and opened his door. He got out and walked around to the bed of the truck which was piled high with twenty or so cardboard boxes. He looked across to Kyle, who was leaning against the tailgate.

"Let's go get the keys to our dorm first, then we can find Cartman or someone to help us with the stuff." The red-head suggested.

"Sounds good to me." Stan answered, taking Kyle's gloved hand in his and walking toward the registration office.

On the other side of campus, a red mini-van drove away from the curb, revealing two boys surrounded by various crates and boxes.

"Bye, boys! We love you!" Mrs. Cartman said as she and Mrs. McCormick drove off.

Eric and Kenny stood there in the cold, their possessions scattered around their feet. Kenny looked up at Eric, his always-perky blue eyes glazed over with tears.

"How the hell are we gonna get all this shit up three flights of—," Eric started, but then he noticed Kenny's scared expression. "Aw, Ken, don't cry!" He said, pulling the blonds' slight frame to his chest. "It'll be fine, I promise!"

Kenny smiled. Eric never acted like this around anyone but him. He always put on the tough-guy act around everyone else, but when they were alone he was the sweetest thing ever.

"I know, it's just I'm freaking out 'cause we have to fend for ourselves now, ya' know?" Kenny looked up at Eric.

"Yeah, it'll be weird, but we'll get through it." He smiled at the blond. "C'mon, help me get the shit up stairs."

Inside the registration office, Stan and Kyle stood waiting in front of a long wooden counter. They'd been waiting for over ten minutes, and Stan had already rung the bell six times. Kyle groaned and hit the bell one last time. Suddenly, a young girl came bustling out of the back room.

"I am so sorry to keep you waiting, guys, but one of our aides got his finger caught in the copier and it was just a huge mess," the girl said as she placed a stack of papers on the counter-top. She didn't look up from the papers as she said "I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long?"

Stan glanced at Kyle. "Oh, no, it's no problem, really." He looked up at the girl as she stacked the papers in two neat piles. Something about her hair seemed really familiar. "Wendy?" Stan asked, curiously.

The girl finally took her eyes off the papers and looked up at him. "Stan?" Her voice was a little shaky, and her expression changed immediately to one of shock.

Kyle quickly turned his head to look the other way, pretending to be vastly interested in the painting of a mountain on the opposite wall. He wanted nothing to do with this.

"Wendy… Uh, hey." Stan broke the ice with a typical statement. "I, uh, didn't know you worked here."

Wendy's eyes trailed slowly downward until they landed on Stan and Kyle's clasped hands. She shook her head as if to clear the image and looked back up at Stan.

"Oh, yeah, I've been working here since summer. I got a teaching aide scholarship."

"Oh, that's great!" Stan cleared his throat and stared at the ground.

He and Wendy hadn't spoken since sophomore year. While they were in one of their on-off relationships, Wendy had caught Stan kissing Kyle behind the school. She had gone into a complete outrage, saying that Stan had no right to be kissing someone else, even though she and Stan were not going out at the time. After that day they'd never spoken, until now.

It was a good five minutes before anyone said anything. But finally Wendy looked up and asked "So what do you guys need?"

Stan rubbed the back of his head nervously. "We uh, just need the key to our dorm room, uh… room… uh…"

"Six thirteen." Kyle muttered.

"Yeah… six thirteen."

Wendy silently reached under the counter and produced two keys on a key ring with the number 613 taped to it. She slid it across to them. "If you need help moving your stuff in, there are luggage carts in that closet." She pointed to a small door behind them, then turned swiftly and hurried back into the back room.

Kyle smirked at Stan.

"I think she's still pissed at me." Stan mumbled.

"No, you think? I had no idea!" Kyle feigned shock, earning him a playful shove in the stomach.

"Damn it, Kenny! Can you lift your side up more?"

"I'm trying, Eric! How 'bout we turn around so that I'm not the one walking backward up the fucking stairs!"

"We can't turn around now! We're wedged between the railings!"

"Well then, can you at least go a little slower?"

Kenny and Eric had managed to get all of their belongings onto the rolling coffee table they had, and they were now attempting to get it up the stairs. They'd already made it up two and a half flights of stairs and they only had about ten more steps to go, but the coffee table was now extremely heavy, and Kenny's fingers were starting to bleed.

"C'mon, Ken, just a few more steps." Eric assured him.

Kenny gritted his teeth against the pain, and took one step backward, up the stair. Suddenly, his tennis shoe slipped on the smooth concrete, and Kenny fell, bringing his side of the table with him. Eric did his best to catch the other side as it fell, too, but ended up being nearly crushed by it. He quickly jumped out of the way as Kenny's side fell down, and a sickening _crack_ echoed around the stairwell.

"Kenny!" Eric screamed, rushing over to where Kenny was.

"AHH! GET IT THE FUCK OFF ME!" Kenny bellowed, tears streaming down his cheeks. The coffee table had landed on Kenny's right ankle, crushing it and his foot under the weight of the boxes stacked on it.

"Ah, holy shit! Hold on!" Eric quickly pushed the table off Kenny's leg, causing several of the boxes to fall off and tumble down the stairs. When he turned back to the other boy, a gruesome sight met his gaze.

Kenny sat with his left and uninjured leg hugged to his chest, while his right leg lay limp on the floor, a small puddle of blood pooling underneath it. His foot, though not _visibly_ broken because of his shoe, was twisted almost completely backwards, which caused Eric to cringe. Kenny's eyes were closed tightly, tears leaking out of them slowly.

"H-how bad is it?" he asked as Eric sat down on the stair next to him.

"It's, uh… p-pretty bad." He answered. "You'll probably need a cast and a lot of stitches."

Kenny ventured one brave eye open, but he shut it immediately at the sight of the blood soaking through his worn jeans. For someone who'd died multiple times when he was younger (and in many more gruesome and bloody ways than this) he was incredibly squeamish.

"God damn it. I fucking hate hospitals."

"Can you move it?" Eric asked, knowing the answer already.

"What the fuck do you think?" Kenny snapped.

"Eric? That you? Kenny? You guys okay?"

Both the boys looked up to see Butters leaning over the ledge of the fourth floor.

"Butters!" Eric called up to him. "Can you come down here?"

"Well, sure, uh, but why?" Butters asked making his way down the stairs.

"Kenny hurt his ankle and I need your help to get the rest of the stuff upstairs."

"Oh, okay! I can help!" Butters thudded his way down the rest of the stairs toward them. "Oh, geez," he exclaimed after seeing Kenny's ankle. "What on earth happened?"

"Kenny tripped and dropped the coffee table on his leg." Eric motioned toward the sideways table and the boxes that were spilling off of it. "Let me just get him upstairs and I'll come back down to help you get the shit."

"Oh, that's ok, Eric." Butters was already gathering the boxes. "You take care of Kenny, Tweek and I can get this stuff. Tweek!" Butters tilted his head up and called.

"Yeah?" The constantly trembling blond head of Tweek appeared over the fourth floor railing. "Oh, jesus! What happened?"

"Kenny got hurt. I need your help!" Butters explained.

"Dude, what's Tweek doing here?" Eric asked as he attempted to lift Kenny up without hurting him.

"Oh, he's my roommate, on account of the fact that no one wants to room with either of us…" Butters stated sadly as he stacked boxes onto the top stair.

Tweek came down to their level and began helping Butters. Eric successfully picked up Kenny and draped his injured leg over his arm. Kenny pressed his tear-stained face into Eric's warm coat.

"Well, guys, thanks for your help. Our dorm's right around the corner up there. I'll be down in a minute, after I get Ken cleaned up." Eric said, carrying Kenny to the landing.

"No problem Eric!" Butters yelled after him.

Once they were inside, Eric set Kenny gently down on the plastic-covered sofa, left the room, and returned quickly with a handful of toilet paper, a roll of medical gauze, an ACE bandage, and an ice pack. He sat down gingerly next to Kenny's injured foot.

"There was this little first-aid kit under the bathroom sink, so that was lucky." He said, gesturing to his finds. "C'mon, Ken. We gotta get your shoes and jeans off."

Kenny sniffed and unbuttoned his jeans. He started to pull them off when he winced in pain. Eric had tried to pull off Kenny's right shoe without untying it first.

"Aw, shit! Dude, I'm sorry." Eric quickly stated. "I thought it was loose!"

"It's ok," Kenny smiled weakly up at the brunette.

Once Kenny's shoes and socks were on the floor, Eric leaned over and started to pull Kenny's jeans down.

"You know, if this were any other situation, I'd have these things off of you in a split second." Eric smirked.

Kenny chuckled lightly through his sobs. Eric had been his boyfriend for the better half of high school. At first their relationship had been simply a "friends with benefits" deal, but eventually it blossomed into a romantic "gooey fest" as Kenny's brother so lovingly put it.

"Alright, lets see what the problem is," Eric said, having successfully removed Kenny's jeans. He winced sympathetically. It was worse than he thought. "Well… The good news is that you probably won't have to go to classes for a few days…"

"And the bad news?"

"It's really, really fucking bad, man."

Kenny groaned. This was just what he needed.

At that moment, Butters and Tweek entered the dorm, carrying the coffee table and the rest of their belongings. "Where do you want this stuff, Eric?" Butters asked.

"Just put it over there next to the window."

As they did so, Tweek caught sight of Kenny's leg. He gave a rather loud shriek of disgust and almost dropped the table on Butters' foot.

"Woah, be careful, ass-hole!" Eric said. "Don't want another Kenny, now do we?"

Butters walked over to the couch. "Maybe we should take him to the campus nurse?" he suggested.

"Nah, he's been through enough today, I think. Dragging him halfway across campus would just freak him out more. I'll clean it up as best I can and let him sleep on it. In the morning we'll go see the nurse."

Kenny grumbled some more. He was really looking forward to celebrating his new found freedom (and the fact that he actually ended up being able to pay for college) with Eric later that night, but it looked as if that wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

"Well, thanks for carrying our shit in, guys," Eric said, getting off the couch to let Tweek and Butters out the door.

"Oh, no problem, Eric!" Butters chirped.

"Feel better, dude, GAH!" Tweek said to Kenny as he exited the dorm.

"If you guys need anything else, we're just one floor up!" Butters continued, ignoring Eric's pushes out the door.

"Yeah, that's great, Butters, we'll see you later ok BYE!" Eric finally slammed the door behind them. "Jesus Christ, I thought they'd never leave."

Kenny smirked a little. Eric walked back over to the couch and sat down. "Let's see if we can clean you up." He lifted Kenny slight frame onto his lap in order to reach his ankle better. As he was pouring the antiseptic onto his wound, Kenny buried his face in the comfort of Eric's coat. This was going to be a long night.

The elevator came to a stop on the third floor of the dorm building. The doors slid open, and Kyle and Stan wheeled their full luggage carts out onto the landing.

"Which room is it?" Kyle asked as he pushed the heavy cart down the hallway.

"I think it's the one at the end of the hall," Stan replied, right behind him.

When they got to the door, the number _613_ was printed in peeling paint on the side of the door.

"Clas-sy," Kyle remarked upon seeing the state of the door. Stan smirked at his boyfriend and fished around for the keys in his pocket. Once he found them, he presented them to  
Kyle.

"Would you like to do the honors?" he asked.

Kyle grinned and took the keys. "Welcome home!" he exclaimed as he turned them in the lock. As he opened the door, however, the sight that met their gaze was not a particularly inviting one.


	2. Chapter 2

Eric Cartman sat on the couch, holding a bleeding and half-naked Kenny McCormick on his lap. He had been pouring hydrogen-peroxide onto Kenny's leg, but he stopped short when Kyle and Stan entered the room.

There was a thick awkward silence for a few minutes, in which no one said anything or even moved. Eric and Kenny stared confusedly at Kyle and Stan, and Kyle and Stan were wearing faces of pure shock and disgust.

After another minute or so, Stan finally let out a small "What the fuck…"

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TWO DOING IN OUR DORM?" Kyle bellowed, jabbing his finger in the direction of the two on the couch.

"YOUR DORM? THIS IS OUR DORM!" Eric yelled back, jumping to his feet and almost dropping Kenny.

"FUCK NO IT'S NOT! Stan and I specifically asked for a PRIVATE DORM and that does not include your FAT ASS!"

"AY! I AM NOT FAT! And Kenny and I asked for a private dorm TOO! Maybe you two FAGS just got the wrong dorm!"

"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU CALLING A FAG, YOU FAG! If I recall, you're the one holding a bare-assed guy in your arms! And what the HELL happened to Kenny?"

"That isn't any of your CONCERN, Jew-boy! This isn't your dorm, GET THE FUCK OUT!"

"Would you two just SHUT UP?" Both Kenny and Stan said simultaneously.

The room went quiet again. Eric sat back down and put Kenny on the sofa, carefully beginning to wrap his ankle in gauze. Kyle sheepishly lowered his outstretched hand.

"So, let's work this out," Stan suggested. "Kenny, tell me what happened."

Kenny rolled his eyes and scooted himself up in his seat. "I dropped the coffee table on my foot when we were bringing it upstairs."

Kyle looked confused. "Why didn't you just take the elevator?"

Eric all of a sudden looked up from Kenny's ankle. "There's an ELEVATOR?"

"Yeah, you didn't see it? It's right next to the stairs," Stan explained. "How do you think we got these carts up here?"

Eric groaned.

"Well, it doesn't matter, we need to get Kenny to the emergency room!" Kyle said urgently.

"Nooo!" Kenny whined as he hugged his uninjured leg to his chest. "Eric's taking care of it. I'm gonna see the doctor tomorrow!"

"Dude, no offense, but I doubt Cartman knows anything about medical procedures…" Stan pointed out.

"I know more than you do," Eric retorted, gesturing to the halfway decent job he'd done wrapping Kenny's leg.

"Well, regardless of what happened, I think Cartman and I should go downstairs to the Room and Board office and see if we can sort things out." Stan said. "Kyle, stay here and see if you can help Kenny. We'll be back soon."

Kyle nodded at his boyfriend and glared at Eric as he passed. He took Eric's previous seat on the sofa next to the blond boy, taking his leg and continuing to wrap it in the Ace bandage as Stan and Eric left the dorm.

"Man, Ken, what kinda shit luck must you have for these sorts of things to happen to you all the time, huh?" He asked.

Kenny smirked. Most of the pain had gone in the last ten minutes, now his leg was mostly just sore and hard to move. What Kyle had said was true, however. He really did have shit luck. This sort of thing always happened to him. It was as if he was the most accident prone person on the face of the planet.

"So, indulge me if you will," Kyle began asking. "I know I've probably asked this a thousand times but, why _Cartman?_"

Kenny laughed. Kyle had asked that question a thousand times, and the answer was always the same: "Because he loved me when no one else did."

"But… he's _Cartman!_" the red head persisted.

Kenny shrugged. "Why did you pick Stan?"

Kyle smiled. "Cause he's my best friend, and the best fucker I know."

Down in the Room and Board office, Eric and Stan sat in two very uncomfortable plastic chairs, opposite the desk of a woman who was reminiscent of a secretary in the fifties.

"So, what seems to be the issue here, boys?" she asked, chewing a piece of bright green gum.

"Uhm, my boyfriend and I—," Stan began, but the lady cut him short.

"Woah, your _boyfriend?_" she questioned, holding up a finger to his face and wagging a purple acrylic nail under his nose.

"Yes, my _boyfriend_," Stan didn't even hesitate saying the word. "We asked for a private dorm, and when we got there there were already two other people in the dorm." He pointed at Eric.

"Well, we got there first!" Eric said indignantly. "We asked for a private room as well and we were given the keys to room 613!"

The woman glanced confusedly from Stan to Eric then back to Stan. She typed in the room number on her computer, then looked back at the two boys.

"It says here that you two both wanted private dorms, but unfortunately there seems to have been a mix-up and you were assigned the same suite."

Eric rolled his eyes. "Yeah, thanks, we hadn't noticed that already!"

"Is there any way to fix it?" Stan inquired.

The woman typed something else onto the keyboard. "Unfortunately all of our private dorms are taken, and there aren't any more single dorms available. Looks like you're just going to have to learn to live with each other!"

"There, I think that's got it," Kyle said as he put the last bandage on Kenny's foot. "You should be good for a little while."

"Thanks, man." Kenny muttered. He was still in some pain, but Kyle's medical major was already starting to pay off.

Just then, Eric slammed the door open and stormed in, muttering something like "Stupid 50's whore doesn't know shit." He stomped over to the couch and sat down next to Kenny's head.

Stan came in after him, an angry look on his face.

"So?" Kyle asked, standing up. "What did they say?"

"There aren't any other dorms available. We're stuck together."

Kenny groaned, and Kyle kicked the end of the sofa.

"This is BULLSHIT!" Eric yelled.

Twenty minutes of awkward silence passed as Kyle and Stan began unpacking some of their boxes. Eric and Kenny were still on the couch, Eric stewing in his own rage and Kenny leaning against his shoulder.

Stan carried a box marked "Bedroom Stuff" into the bigger of the two bedrooms. Eric stood up immediately, causing Kenny to fall over.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Eric asked, following Stan into the room. "This is _our_ room!"

Stan rolled his eyes and set the box down. "I don't see your name on it, Fat ass."

"We got here first! We should get first pick!" Eric picked the box back up and brought it back outside.

Stan groaned and followed him. "You know what? Fine. Take the goddamn room. You'll need the extra space to hold your fat ass anyways!" He stormed into the adjoining room, carrying the box with him.

"Jew Lover!" Eric called after him before sitting back down on the couch.

"Dude," Kyle said from the kitchen. "I'm standing right here."


	3. Chapter 3

The kitchen table was crowded that night. Kyle had thought it would be a good idea to invite all of their friends over for dinner for a little "Dorm Warming Party". So that's exactly what had happened. Unfortunately, Kyle forgot to take into account the fact that because everyone had just moved in, hardly anyone had any real money for food. So they all ended up ordering pizza and hanging out around the table drinking the tons of bottles of various liquors that Craig had stolen from his parents.

"So what's the deal with this whole double dorm situation?" Craig asked from across the tiny plastic table.

"It sucks." Eric spat. He took a long swig of his beer and leaned back in his chair.

"Oh come on, it can't be that bad!" Butters said. "You fellas have been best friends since forever! It must be great living with your best friend!"

"Butters, why the hell did we invite you?" Eric geered.

"Eric? Could you bring me another beer pwetty pweese?" Kenny called from the sofa. Because of his injury he hadn't left the sofa but once, and that was only to have Eric carry him to the bathroom.

Eric leaned over the table and grabbed another beer. He pushed his chair away from the table and walked over to the boy on the sofa. "Thanks, babe." Kenny said, grinning. This would be his seventh beer in two hours.

"So… You guys are all living in the same dorm?" Clyde asked. He was already completely hammered.

"No duh, dumb ass," Craig quipped. "Where were you for the last three hours?"

"It's not as bad as Cartman says it is," Kyle said, coming out of the kitchen with another slice of pizza. "I mean, at least we have separate rooms."

"Yeah but they're only separated by one paper thin wall." Craig said. "Don't you think that that'll get a little awkward at times?"

"Pfft, no," Stan scoffed. "Nobody's gonna wanna have sex if Cartman is in the building."

"I would!" Kenny yelled, raising his hand. Eric rolled his eyes. "You're drunk, Ken." He said, putting the blonde on his lap. "So?" Kenny answered. "It's true!" Eric smiled and kissed him.

"Ew gross!" Craig shouted. "What fags."

"Shut the fuck up, Craig!" Eric yelled. "Everyone knows you and Tweek were practically attached at the anus for the whole senior year!"

"Oh Jesus!" Tweek shrieked. Craig scowled and flipped Eric off.

Eric smirked. "My point exactly."

The next morning, Eric woke up to find himself and Kenny sprawled out on the sofa. There was a barrage of empty beer cans and several bottles of vodka and rum lying around them. And his head hurt terribly. The last thing he could remember was Craig flipping him off, then Stan and Kyle went to bed. After that, everything went blank.

He sat up a bit. Kenny was sleeping on his chest, his arm splayed out over his stomach. Eric looked at his injured leg. Overnight it seemed to have swollen to about twice its normal size. They had to get him to the nurse before it got any worse.

"Ken," Eric whispered, shaking the blonde slightly. "Ken wake up."

Kenny slowly opened his eyes and sat up. He looked at Eric and smiled. "Mornin'," he said groggily.

"Morning. Look at your foot."

Kenny turned slightly and looked behind him. "Damn." He muttered.

"We have to get you to a hospital. Like, now." Eric said, standing up and bringing Kenny along with him.

"What's going on?" Stan asked as he and Kyle emerged from their bedroom.

"Kenny's foot's gotten worse. I'm taking him to the emergency room." Eric walked towards the door. "Can I borrow your truck, Stan?"

"Hell no!" Stan yelled, yanking his car keys off the kitchen counter. "The last time you borrowed Kyle's car it ended up on fire in a ditch. No way I'm letting you touch my truck."

"Stan, you son of a bitch," Eric mumbled quietly. "Kenny's hurt! I don't have a car! Would you get off your pansy-ass pedestal for two seconds and let me take care of my BOYFRIEND!"

Stan blinked. "Jeez dude, calm down. Fine. Just take care of it alright?" He threw Eric the keys. Kenny caught them.

Eric rolled his eyes and stormed out the door, Kenny in tow. When he slammed the door behind him, Stan looked at Kyle.

"What was that about?" He asked the red-head. Kyle shrugged.

"I guess he just really cares about Kenny. I mean, let's face it, Kenny's pretty much the only significant other Cartman's ever had. I guess he just doesn't want to lose him."

Eric sped off down the highway, honking at any car that dared to put itself in front of him.

"Eric! Slow down for Christ's sake!" Kenny yelled from the passenger seat. "You're gonna kill us!"

His plea was unanswered, however, because at that exact moment, Eric made a sort of crash landing into the parking lot of the hospital. Without even bothering to turn off the truck, he ran to the other side, scooped Kenny up, and bolted into the reception area.

He'd gotten everyone's attention.

"SOMEONE GET THIS BOY A DOCTOR!"

Back in the dorm, Stan and Kyle sat at the kitchen table, not really doing anything.

"So…" Kyle said, breaking the awkward silence. "D'you think Kenny's gonna be ok?"

"Oh yeah," Stan assured him. "The kid's gotten himself into way worse dealings than a broken foot before."

"True…"

The awkward silence returned. Kyle looked at Stan. He was absent-mindedly stirring his coffee.

"Would you do that for me?" Kyle asked suddenly.

"Hm? Would I do what for you?"

"The way Cartman got all freaked out that you wouldn't let him borrow your truck. Would you do that for me?"

Stan looked confused. "What are you talking about, Ky?"

"Cartman got upset because Kenny was hurt and he couldn't help him unless he borrowed your truck. You wouldn't let him so he exploded. Would you do that for me?" Kyle emphasized the last two words carefully.

Stan smiled. "Of course I would, Ky! Why wouldn't I?"

Kyle shrugged. "I dunno… I guess I've just seen the way that Cartman cares about Kenny and I guess it made me wonder about us."

Stan scooted his chair over to Kyle's side of the table and put his arm around him. "Seriously? You're comparing us to Kenny and Cartman? That's like… comparing champagne to cheap beer."

"Which one are we?" Kyle asked. Stan smirked.

"We're the champagne." He leaned over and kissed Kyle on the forehead. "And trust me, Ky, if anything bad ever happened to you, I'd kill Cartman and hang his body on the shower rod if it meant helping you.

Kyle smiled and snuggled into his boyfriend's embrace. "Well, don't do that, Kenny'd never speak to us again."

Stan nodded. "Yeah. Then who would we get our weed from?"


End file.
